


Mistletoe and Vodka

by Miscellaneous_Subtext



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christmas Eve fic, Drinking, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Vodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2886389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miscellaneous_Subtext/pseuds/Miscellaneous_Subtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wasn't supposed to coming home for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe and Vodka

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr post...
> 
> My original story post with the original post is over here on Tumblr  
> http://library-of-miscellaneous-subtext.tumblr.com/post/106313135940/kingsleyyy-cries-under-the-mistletoe-with-a

Stiles is kind of miserable. His Dad’s working a double, and Scott and Melissa have gone to visit their family. So Stiles is totally alone on Christmas eve and it sucks. Of course, he hadn’t been planning to come home for Christmas, he was supposed to be working, but then the cafe he been working at had been gutted by a fire and wouldn’t be open again until February. So yea, Stiles has shit luck.

There’s a knock on the door, but Stiles ignores it, because it can only be carolers and Stiles does not want to listen to people sing. Nope, he wants to sit here in the archway between the entryway and lounge room with his bottle of vodka, the wall shoving into his back, and the fucking fake mistletoe hanging above his head looking down at him mockingly. 

There’s another knock, then a third and Stiles huffs.

"Busy, come back never!" Stiles laughs at his own joke, not that it’s really funny. Actually laughing just makes him feel sick, his laughter is lonely.

The door swings open and Stiles frowns, because he’s pretty sure he locked it. And… it’s Derek. Keys hanging from his fingers, leather jacket thrown on over a really cute sweater with reindeer’s and black jeans that are way to tight. 

"You’re tall," Stiles observers, then huffs at himself for stating the obvious. He lifts the vodka bottle to his lips and takes a sip. It burns all the way down and tastes horrible. Why couldn’t he have stopped at the store earlier and bought that nice alcoholic eggnog, that would have been easier. Oh, that’s right, because he was going to be ALONE, and there was no point buying Christmas stuff if there was no one around to share it with.

"Stiles…" Derek frowns, eyebrows lowering and it’s really cute. Stiles loves Derek’s grumpy face, it’s adorable and it makes Stiles want to pat Derek’s face until he stops scowling. 

"Nope, don’t want to hear it. Either get down here and drink with me or get out. I don’t care if anyone’s dead, dying or horribly maimed, I’m drinking away my Christmas sorrows and there is nothing you can do about it." Derek rolls his eyes, which Stiles is totally used to by now. Derek just closes the door, then turns and goes into the kitchen.

"That’s fine!" Stiles calls after him sarcastically. "Just make yourself at home, Derek! Never-mind good old drunk Stiles being all sad and drunk under the fucking mistletoe all alone at Christmas." When Derek comes back he’s minus his leather jacket, and honestly that jumper is HOT. As in, only Derek could look like the cover of GQ’s Christmas special edition. Does GQ even have a Christmas special edition, probably not, but if they did, Derek would totally be on the front.

Derek sits down with a small sigh, and Stiles raises his eyebrows.

"Um, I didn’t mean it. I mean, I did, but you didn’t have to do it. You can go do other stuff. Like hang out with Cora, I know she’s here for Christmas. Isaac to, you don’t need to be here with me. My Dad’s at the station until tomorrow." Stiles rambles on, normally he can at least make himself stop when he starts, but after all the vodka, hmmm, at least a third of a bottle, wow, Stiles is way to smashed. 

"Share," Derek says, because it’s definitely not a question, and holds out a glass that Stiles hadn’t noticed him holding. 

"Oh, you don’t…I mean, um… You sure?" Stiles asks, holding the bottle over Derek’s glass. Derek’s hand is warm over the back of Stiles’s as he makes Stiles pour some of the vodka into the glass. And wow, Stiles didn’t know he was that cold until right now, maybe he should get up and get a blanket.

"I’m sure Stiles," And damn it, Derek sounds fucking fond. 

"You suck, why couldn’t you just let me wallow in peace?" Stiles mutters, bringing the bottle to his lips again when he’s finished filling Derek’s glass. His hand feels really cold now, he blames Derek, Stiles wouldn’t even know what he was missing if Derek hadn’t showed up all warm and adorable in his ridiculous reindeer sweater. 

"You know you’re talking out-loud right?" Oh and Derek looks so smug right now, that is until he takes a sip of his drink and grimaces like he’s just swallowed muddy water. "Why are you even drinking this?" Which makes Stiles laugh.

"Because it’s Christmas, I’m alone and there was no other alcohol in the house." Stiles flails, nearly dropping the bottle on the floor, only catching it at the last second.

"You could have come and hung out with me, Cora, and Isaac." Derek says as if it’s no big deal. 

"Nah, I didn’t want to intrude, I wasn’t even supposed to be here." 

"But you’re here now," Derek has put his glass down and is looking at Stiles like he’s something fascinating that he’d like to take apart and study.

"Yea, ‘guess so." Stiles looks away and twists his hands together in his lap, vodka bottle forgotten.

"You’re not alone now." The words come out all in one breath, so quiet Stiles isn’t sure he was meant to hear them. He looks up, only to find Derek leaning over him, and he only see’s Derek’s face for a second before their mouths are brushing and Stiles’s eyes fall closed.

It’s a nice kiss, slow and unhurried, nothing like any of the other kisses Stiles has had up to this point. Derek is so warm, one of his hands is in Stiles’s hair and it makes Stiles feel like he’s head has suddenly caught on fire. It’s amazing, and even dulled by the vodka, Stiles can feel a rush of arousal. Derek pulls away slowly, but he doesn’t move away or sit down. 

"You’re spending Christmas with me, okay? Your Dad can come to. Right now though, you’re going to bed." Stiles doesn’t question it, the tone in Derek’s voice says he won’t accept any argument Stiles can come up with.

"Will you come to? I mean to bed," Stiles feels himself blush, "I mean, just to sleep. Will you come to bed with me to sleep?" Stiles buries his fingers in the soft fabric of Derek’s sweater, taking in the warmth of it just in case Derek changes his mind and pulls away.

"Yes Stiles," Derek leans in again and kisses both of Stiles’s cheeks before helping him to his feet.

"Derek?" Stiles mumbles as Derek leads him towards the stairs.

"Yea?"

"Merry Christmas," Derek stops and turns, he’s smiling and it’s like the sun has come up, Stiles heart melts in his chest.

"Merry Christmas, Stiles."


End file.
